Gotterdammerung
by AnimaDefensor
Summary: This is a readaptation of of the first book in the Harry Potter series. I hope you enjoy it. [Harry/Hermione] [Kinder!Severus]
1. Walküre

**Harry Potter: Götterdämmerung**

* * *

_"Whatever you do will be insignificant, but it is very important that you do it." - Mohandas K. Gandhi  
_

* * *

**Chapter 1: Walküre  
**

* * *

Every year seems to pass by with haste, these sorts of things begin to run together at some point or another. Sorry, I'm getting ahead of myself.

My name is Harry Potter.

There you go, that's a good start. I am Harry Potter, I'm 10, and I live at 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. I've lived here most of my life, if not all of it. I don't remember much about my parents, since I've only had my horse-face aunt, my portly uncle, and my morbidly obese cousin to accompany me in the last 10 years. My birthday is coming up soon, which is never celebrated, since my relatives don't really like me.

My uncle calls me a lay-about drain on his finances, my aunt barely speaks to me, and my cousin calls me "Punching Bag", since that's all I really am to him. I live in a small cupboard inside the staircase. I have nothing but a cot from the London Blitz, a pair of glasses, and well... A large collection of novels that I've smuggled and stolen from the local library and from my uncle's study. He has never noticed these books disappearing.

And sometimes when my relatives are out, leaving me to clean the house, I play some of the vinyls that my uncle has stored in the family room. My particular favorite is _Walkürenritt. _It's by Richard Wagner, and it's so... powerful and amazing. It's on an old 78 rpm vinyl disc, and apparently it's been in Uncle Vernon's family since the war, after his father brought back a copy from Germany when he left the army.

So with the company of the likes of Sun Tzu, Lewis, Tolkien, Wagner and others, I've never felt _completely_ alone. Oh, believe you me, there are times where I want to bash my brains against the wall until I leave a nice blood streak, but I've decided the best way I can beat them is through psychological training. So ever since I was old enough to read, I have engrossed myself in learning the ways of the world. I believed myself an anonymous shame to the world before... it happened.

* * *

It was late June, and typical of weather in Britain, it was raining. I was awaken by my alarm going off at about a quarter to 6. They got up at 6, and would be downstairs by 6:20, provided they didn't have a heart attack on the way. I had exactly 35 minutes to prepare everyone's favorite breakfasts.

If you're wondering, yes, I'm the chef of the house. From the time I could reach the top of the counter, I was expected to cook. So at 5, I had a stepping stool and I learned ever so quickly how to prepare everyone's favorite morning meals, and I had been trained for these mornings like a dog would be trained to attack something.

Off to work I went, and the clock struck 6:20 at the precise time it did every single day. My Uncle entered the kitchen first. He slammed down at his place at the table, and within a minute, an American-style breakfast of eggs, sausage, bacon, toast and hash-browns appeared before him, along with a full coffee cup of his favorite type of coffee - black as night.

By 6:25, Aunt Petunia, dressed for her day of gossiping over the telephone or watching whatever American soap opera on the telly, glided in. She sat down at her place and received in front of her, some toast and strawberry jam, with a side of yogurt and a nice glass of orange squeezed of course, they wouldn't have that disgusting store rubbish under their roof.

No no, they prided themselves on their small orange tree, which produced just enough oranges for the next crop to come in, and I had to squeeze this stuff daily in order to keep them happy. Then finally, at 6:45, in rolls Dudley Dursley, the fattest cow-boy that you'd ever see. I immediately placed in front of him a tall stack of about 10 flapjacks, bathed in blueberry syrup and whipped cream. I took my place eating at the counter, having my usual meal of cold scraps from previous nights, or stale bread. Today it was indeed a stale hunk of buttered bread from the night before, it was crusty and unappetizing. I hated it.

I never ate much, because they decided I was too ungrateful to deserve such things. I was 10, and I stood exactly 152cm (5ft), and weighed 60lbs, which is eight inches too tall, and 17 pounds too thin. I was rather emaciated, but I could never show anybody. I wore my cousin's nasty hand-me-downs, which made me look completely natural looking.

The entire time of breakfast, Uncle Vernon went on and on about whatever it is that he wanted to jabber about. Mostly Dudley, his job as a salesman at Grunnings, a drill manufacturer, and whatever flaw he saw in me. Most of the time, it was focused on my hair. My hair was black, long and unruly. Every time I was dragged to the barber, it would grow back instantly. Aunt Petunia even tried to cut it once, but the hair grew back as quickly as she cut it. For not knowing what the bloody hell was going on...

I got a black eye for my troubles.

After that, then came the social worker, who did an investigation, and half-way through, sprang up, declared me in "good hands" and waltzed out the door. No, literally. She _waltzed out of the door_. I got a nice broken thumb for causing them "so much trouble" and was locked away in my cupboard with no food for a week - Which they do quite often. I can cook, but I can't eat most of the time, as punishment for some stupid action.

But you know, I like to compare my plight with that of Gandhi. Passive resistance against a disgusting, oppressive foe. Ah, see, you can turn any bad situation into a struggle.

So, this was also the day something really _important_ happened. It also happened to be Dudley's 11th birthday. The prat celebrated usually by getting twice as many presents as his age. So this year, there were 22 presents stacked up gracefully near the window of the dining room. The presents were run of the mill for the fat prat. New toys, a brand new Super Nintendo to replace the one that he'd sat on one afternoon, A new computer with a bunch of video games like DOOM, and a whole load of quid from his various relatives.

For my birthday? I usually get a smack and some solitary confinement.

The telephone rang down the hall, and Petunia dashed to go get it, leaving Dudley to continue to greedily tear apart the colorful wrapping paper of his gifts. Aunt Petunia emerged into the kitchen once again, holding the phone. "Vernon, it's Mrs. Figg, she can't take the boy today, apparently her cat is getting surgery, so she's in London for the time being."

I watched the purple vein in Uncle Vernon's head grow tight and throb as he muttered some colorful words that shouldn't really be repeated. He sighed and said, "Alright, fine, we'll bring the bloody brat with us."

My ears were almost immediately met with the glass-shattering whine of Dudley. "I don't want to bring him, he's a freak!" I resisted the urge to roll my eyes - doing that would just warrant a good swatting. Uncle Vernon said, "Dudders, don't worry, my boy... how about we pick up more presents for you on the way? Will you be okay then?"

I glanced at Dudley, who was contemplating the offer before he said, "Okay." He leapt off his chair, causing the ground to shake a bit and the chair creaked and groaned as he let off his rotund mass from it, and he bowled up stairs. I quickly cleaned up the kitchen and dashed away before either Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon could do something nasty to me.

* * *

When we were all getting ready to pile into the car, Uncle Vernon cornered me and slammed the door shut and said to me, pointing his keys in a threatening manner. "Don't you think about doing any funny business, boy. Now get in the car, or I'll smack you one."

I bit my tongue a bit, the coppery taste of blood spread as I buckled myself into the backseat. After about a half-hour drive, in which we picked up Dudley's friend Piers Polkiss, we arrived at the Zoo.

The whole trip was mostly a drag. Tagging behind the group sucking on a cheap 99p lemon pop while Dudley and Piers engorged their fat selves on soft-serve chocolate ice cream. The only interesting part was when we entered the reptile habitat. I drifted away from the group and wandered the snake section. There were various species, ranging from the Anaconda to the tiny garden snake.

I stopped in front of the ball python tank, in which the moderate sized snake was weaving around the cage. The beast stopped and turned to look directly at me. I was reading the plaque next to his tank. He then spoke to me. "Hey! Can you understand me?!"

I made eye contact with the little beast and said, "Uh... yeah."

The snake said, "Hey, look, I need to get the hell out of here, man. You're the only other person who seems to be able to talk to snakes. The older snakes tell me that about a decade ago, some creepy guy came in the middle of the night and called them all his children. He spoke snake like you, kid. What's your name?"

I gave a bit of a gulp and replied, looking nervously behind my shoulders, "Harry Potter."

The snake grinned at me, which frankly, freaked me the bloody hell out. "Nice to meet you, Harry Potter."

I began to talk, "I'll try my best to help you bu-" before I found myself rolling on the floor, my glasses smashed on the floor. I looked up to see Dudley. Dudley was yipping and cheering with Piers, calling over Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. He was saying something about "look at what the snake is doing" and such.

The sound of rushing blood flooded my ears as the entire world seemed to fade away for a second. In an instant, the glass disappeared around the ball python's cage. Dudley went falling into the tank, getting stuck. The snake leapt free, causing a panic.

In the panic, he said to me, "Harry, I'm going to curl around your leg. Don't panic, and act like nothing is off." He quickly darted up my pant leg, and curled around my calf, not tight enough to cut off blood flow, but tight enough to grip it.

I gingerly stood up and rubbed my nose where I hit the ground, and stashed my shattered glasses in my pants pocket, and watched in amusement as the chaos reigned as a few security guards tried to help Dudley out of the tank.

Later, he mentioned to Vernon and Petunia that I had been talking to the snake before he ran up.

My uncle's face then turned purple and he said to me, "One week in the cupboard. No meals." And, predictably, I ended up locked in the cupboard, with no food. As he threw me, an explanation was demanded. I responded by saying, "It was like magic." That seemed to turn his already violet face even more of a nice purple hue as he screamed, "THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS MAGIC!" and threw me into the cupboard quite liberally.

* * *

Later that evening, after everyone went to bed, the ball python uncurled my leg and slithered up my arm, curling around my wrist. He turned to face me and said, "So, Harry, I'm glad you could help me."

I chuckled some and said, "Look, snake, I can't really take care of you, I barely get fed enough myself."

The snake laughed (or at least hissed something esque to a laugh) and said, "No problem, friend. I have my ways. They'll probably be looking for me anyway, I'm not a native species, so it's either I stay here with you, or go back to the zoo. And there is no way in hell I am going back there."

I set the snake up on the small bed-side shelf, and said, "So, do you have a name?"

The snake wiggled his head in a no motion and stated with a tinge of annoyance, "Nobody thought to name me."

I gave it a bit of thought before letting out a small laugh and I asked, "Well, you're a Python, right?" The python gave a nod.

"How about Monty?"

The python rolled his eyes, "Monty Python. Wow, you're original, Harry."

I grinned, "Okay, okay, What do you think about something Roman?"

The python's eyes glimmered as he hissed quite pleased, "Romans, like Cleopatra and Marc Antony?"

I nodded, "how about... Trajan? or Hadrian? or Constantine?"

"Ah... hm, Trajan sounds nice."

I nodded and said, "Well then, I name you Trajan the Python."

Trajan hissed at me quite pleased and he flicked his tongue at me affectionately. He slithered down from the cabinet and curled up in next to the small lamp I had.

Turning out the light, I whispered, "Good night, Trajan."

Trajan hissed, "Good night, Harry. See you in the morning."

* * *

Weeks passed with surprisingly little issue. I had Trajan with me all the time. Aunt Petunia mostly confined herself to the sitting room while I did chores in the other parts of the house. Trajan accompanied me everywhere, except when I was working in the garden. He'd go hunt or sunbathe.

Then came the day things *really* got out of hand. It was actually a week before my eleventh birthday. I was doing dishes while the others chatted around the dinner table watching the telly that Uncle Vernon had bought for the dining area, drinking tea. Then the fun started. I heard the mail being delivered, and Vernon barked at me, "Go get the mail boy, before I smack you upside the head!"

I quickly dashed off to get the mail. I checked over it. Bills, letters for Aunt Petunia, etcetera... and then there was one thick yellowish envelope, with a wax seal on the back with a large H on it. I turned it over, and in small green ink was written

_Mister Harry James Potter  
The cupboard under the stairs,  
4 Privet Drive,  
Little Whinging, Surrey_

I raised an eyebrow at such an odd-ball form of address. But what struck me as _even __odder_ was the fact that somebody was sending me a letter. Nobody really knew I lived here, because the Dursleys have been absolutely masterful in hiding me from the public. I walked into the kitchen and set the mail in front of Uncle Vernon and walked over to the counter and stared at my letter for a few seconds, before Dudley's fat fist swept in, snatching up the letter in his fat sausage hands, and giving me a good shove backwards.

He said, "Hey, Dad, look! The freak got a letter!"

Vernon snatched the letter from Dudley's hands laughing, looking at me. "Who the ruddy hell would write to you?" He looked at the crumpled envelope and his smile faltered. He nodded to Petunia, and he quickly stood up, walked down the hall to the den, and disappeared for a minute before returning, "It was a mistake letter, boy. Forget it. And we know you're a growing boy, so your aunt and I have decided you can take Dudders second bedroom."

I raised an eyebrow and said nothing. That letter was enough to them to make them both turn somber and nervous. They were keeping a secret, and I would eventually find out if I had to.

I quickly stashed my belongings in a cardboard box and took them upstairs into the room. It was dark, cluttered, and was full of junk. Dudley's broken toys littered the floor. There was a bookcase in the room, which was full of dusty books, none of which were particularly interesting, all being either useless tokens of the Dursleys life, or stuff I had in better condition. There was an old broken television set that had a shattered screen with a small fat kid sized foot hole in it. Dudley had kicked the screen in when he found out his favorite show had been cancelled. He had been electrocuted badly and had been hospitalized for about a week because of the shock trauma. I remember that week. It was one of the best of my life.

There was a bent rifle, which Dudley had angrily broken when he couldn't get the better one they had just come out with at that time. He never got the rifle, thank God.

A broken tank, a video camera, basically lots of trash. I knew some of it could be salvaged with a bit of work, which I happened to know how. I loved to learn things, and I had learned how to repair mechanical equipment when the television set broke in the den when I was a child. They were actually proud of me that ONE time, and gave me a half of a peanut butter and jam sandwich, which quite honestly, might've been a bar of gold to me.

They wouldn't bother helping or mandating me cleaning this room out, I knew it'd have to be done. I looked for a place to stash the stuff, and found a false board over a small hidey-hole. The hole was deep enough to store things in, and it was definitely worth using. I picked up the video camera, the computer, the rifle, and an old broken VCR, and stashed them. I even put the broken television in the hidey-hole for the time being, thinking I could at least try to fix it. I then got to work recycling all the garbage.

By that night, I had made my room look like a room. My few clothes were safely stashed away in the wardrobe, my book-shelf had been cleaned out and filled with my books, ranging from Sherlock Holmes mysteries, to Art of War, to mechanics books, physics books, what have you. I laid back on my bed and set my alarm clock up, checking it twice to make sure it worked properly. I glanced out the window and let out a yawn. It was late, and I needed to go to bed. I turned out the lamp and went to bed.

* * *

The ensuing week leading up to my 11th birthday was delightfully filled with chaos. Every day, more letters and more owls seemed to march upon the house like a Mongol horde upon Kiev, and it was brilliant to watch Vernon's face grow redder and more veiny with each encompassing moment.

July 28, three days before my 11th birthday, it was Sunday. A day that gave Uncle Vernon way too much hope. "Fine day Sunday," he proclaimed, "Why is Sunday a fine day you ask?" He began to laugh like a deranged lunatic. I replied, "Uhm, no post?" He cackled and nodded, "Right you are, Harry! No post! There is absolutely no post on Sunday!" He went on a tangent as I peered out the window to see even more owls massing around the house.

He was cut-off mid sentence by one of the letters smacking him right in the face. The entire house shook on it's foundation has thousands of letters flooded in through the fireplace. I leapt up onto the coffee table and made a series of grabs towards these flying pieces of paper. After missing several dozen of them, I managed to snatch one. I immediately took off running down the hall, with my Uncle close in second.

He caught up to me and tried to rip the letter from my hand as I protested loudly. He declared, "That's it! We're going away, away to a place where these letters can never find us!" as more poured in through the already boarded-up mail slot.

In all the wisdom he had, we ended up on a secluded island in the middle of the English Channel, which we were planning to stay at for a whole week. The cabin was poorly constructed, which was already being pounded at a ridiculous rate by vast waves conjured up by some storms. I couldn't sleep with my fat-arse cousin snoring on the couch, and me laying in a pile of dirt. Turning over, I felt Trajan slither up onto my back. The snake couldn't really sleep in this environment, so he needed something more like a warm sack, which is what my ratty blanket provided.

I was drawing a small birthday cake, it being the night of my birthday. I sighed to myself as my watch turned to 00:00. I sighed to myself and muttered, "Happy Birthday, Harry..." At that moment, there was the sound of a soul-wrenching explosion, as the door blew to smithereens, the wood chips rolling all over the floor. Lightning struck and dramatically illuminated a man holding a stick by the front door.

Dudley screamed like a little girl as I quickly rolled over and scooted back as Uncle Vernon dashed downstairs carrying a shotgun. Trajan slithered around in a protective motion, despite the poor thing being far too small to do damage to anyone. Uncle Vernon barked, "Just who do you think you are."

The shadowed man said in a very stiff drawl, "Lumos." The tip of his stick lit up and illuminated the whole room. The man had mid-length black hair, a slightly hooked nose, and seemed to be sneering. He said, "I'd put that down, Dursley, before things get ugly."

Vernon Dursley took aim to fire before the man shouted, "Expelliarmus!" The shotgun flew from his hands and crashed into a table, bending in half, much like Dudley's old rifle.

The man peered around the room, looking for something. His eyes came to rest on my scar, which I consciously tried to cover up. The man backed away from the Dursleys, his wand pointed and said to me, "You're Harry Potter?"

I nodded and asked, "H-How'd you know?"

He said, "Your eyes are just like hers..." The tone in his voice had melted a bit.

"Who?" I asked.

"Your mother, Lily." He stated in his drawl. I scratched my head, "You knew my mother?"

He nodded and said, "Indeed, I did. She was an old friend of mine at Hogwarts."

What the hell kind of name was Hogwarts? "What's Hogwarts?"

He said, "Didn't these stupid Muggles teach you anything? Hogwarts is a magical school where you learn to be a wizard, which you are if your troublesome father and your mother are any indication."

I laughed a bit, this was a joke! False hope! I said, a bit of steel entering my words, "There's no such thing as magic, though. At least, that's what Uncle Vernon keeps telling me."

The man raised an eyebrow and said, "No such thing as magic..." He leveled his wand at Vernon, "What kind of pompous nonsense have you been filling this boy's head with, you insufferable idiot?"

He muttered something in Latin, and a light flew from his wand, throwing Vernon Dursley back, collapsing part of the staircase. He said, "Potter, you're a wizard, and the so called..." his voice had a bit of annoyance, "Golden Boy of the Wizarding World."

I raised an eyebrow, "If my parents a wizards... does that mean they could teleport?"

The man nodded, "Apparition is something we wizards learn at the age of sixteen. Why do you ask?"

I frowned and clutched my fists, "Because perhaps they could've used this magical power to teleport us away from the car when it got hit! That's how I got this, right?" I pointed to my own scar, pulling my hair up. "I got this from a shard of glass catching me in the forehead. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia tell me it's because my father was drunk and my mother was being a tawdry whore, giving him a "good time"."

The man's already-a-sneer turned into a look of murder and he turned, his cool demeanor breaking, "As much as I loathe and despise James Potter, it is a terrible thing to speak ill of the dead. Especially Lily Potter. She was no layabout, cheap, tawdry whore. She was a brilliant woman, you insufferable, pathetic excuses for Muggles!"

Petunia said, "It's your fault she's dead anyway, Snape! You had to fill her head with dreams of being a witch, and take her away from me to go to that blasted school!"

The man (obviously named Snape) pressed his wand to her throat and said, "Listen to me, you horsy bitch, do not speak ill of them ever again, because if you do, I will come to your home and I will end you and your entire family."

He sneered, "Now shut up and don't interfere, or I will end you."

He sat down on the couch, kicking off Dudley's blankets and said, "Come sit, Potter. I've not got all night."

I approached the man and sat beside him. He pulled out his wand and a bright flame shot out, illuminating the dead fire. He tucked it back away and said, "Anyway, Harry Potter. My name is Severus Snape, I am the Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"Potions?"

"Ah, yes, Muggle education. Well, have you ever read those Muggle legends of wizards in the Dark Ages?" I gave a nod, "Good, you're not entirely stupid. Well, Potions is like where you mix certain ingredients together to make something. Like eye of newt and cauldron bubble? Certain elements have made it a laughable fable in the Muggle world, but in wizardry, it is a serious profession."

I blinked. That sounds fun, just like Chemistry. "So it's like Chemistry?"

Snape gave a bit of a smile, "Precisely. Well, you seem pretty well-read for living with a bunch of idiot muggles. Perhaps you're not like your father at all." He said, "You're a wizard, and you need to go to Hogwarts with all the other ones. At Hogwarts, we teach you how to master your magical core, and to be responsible with magic."

Vernon's voice filtered from behind me. "The boy is NOT going to some fabled magical school!"

Snape sighed and called behind him, "Shut up, you idiot."

I said, "So magic is real, and my parents are martyrs?"

Snape nodded.

I thought on it for a second. A chance to get away from the torturous idiocy that_ was _the Dursley household, and I could go away to some magical school with this guy, who seemed kind of a stiff sarcastic type, or I could stay and get abused some more. I nodded and said, "Okay...er, Professor Snape. I'll go with you."

There was the sound of a growl and I felt two huge meaty hands wrap around my throat as Vernon tried to strangle me, "You won't be going anywhere, you selfish brat!"

I heard the sickening snap of somebody's fist colliding to a jaw, and I heard a large rumbling thump to the ground. I gasped for breath as Snape massaged his hand. He said, "C'mon then, Potter. I think it's best if we get you as far away from these abusive relatives as we possibly can, as quickly as we can. Fortunately, I have a portkey to London already prepar-"

"Uh, sir..."

He stopped and looked at me, "Usually I don't permit people to interrupt me, but go ahead."

I smiled shyly, "I have some things back at their home I need to collect. I really don't want to go back there."

Snape looked inside at the unconscious Vernon and said looking at me, "...Alright then, Potter. We'll take you to your house, and then we'll go to London. Right this way, boy." He grasped my shoulder and guided me over to the far-side of the rock and pulled a piece of paper out of his robe. "Mr. Harry Potter, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey..." He raised an eyebrow, "Care to explain the "Cupboard under the Stairs" bit?"

I rubbed my neck, "I lived in the cupboard under the stairs most of my life. After the letters started to arrive, they moved me into the smallest bedroom." I looked up and made eye contact with Snape, and I felt this strange feeling in my head as his eyes turned into a more murderous look. He broke eye-contact and said, "I'm going to give Dumbledore a piece of my mind. Hold onto my arm, Potter."

I took his arm and he snapped his wand up. I felt the world go dark as this feeling of being pressed into a small plastic tube grew, before I found myself at the front door of 4 Privet Drive.

Snape nodded to me and pointed his wand at the doorknob. He calmly stated, "_Alohomora_." The lock clicked and he pushed the door open. The house was darkened. He shut the door behind him and flipped the switch on the wall. The lights came on in the main entrance area. He grabbed my shoulder and said, "Before we gather your belongings, I'd like to ask that you show me the cupboard, Potter."

I took him over to the door in the staircase, and opened it up. The small, cramped cupboard still had some of my belongings in it that I hadn't moved out yet. Snape said, "You really lived in here, Potter?"

I nodded and he shook his head, "That's disgusting. Now, let's get your stuff, quickly."

I quickly darted up the stairs, Snape following me close behind. We got to my room, and I opened the door. I walked over to a lamp and clicked the switch to on, the room being dimly illuminated by the fluorescent lightbulb in the lamp. I looked around for a second and said, "...Uh, Professor, do you have something I can put my stuff in? I have some cardboard boxes, but they definitely aren't going to work if we're going to London."

Professor Snape blinked for a minute and said, "...Ah, yes, of course. Wait here, Potter." He raised his wand and disappeared in a snap. I proceeded to sort my things. Trajan unraveled from my leg after seeing a small mouse scurry through the room. He charged after it, leaving me to sort.

Snape returned a minute or so later, carrying a wooden mahogany trunk. He set it down and said, "Everything should fit in there, as it's an infinite space trunk." He glanced around the room, taking interest in a few things while I packed away. I was busy pulling the boxes out of the hidden space, when I heard Snape give a noise of disgust. I turned around to see him looking in my wardrobe. "What kind of rags are these?" He sneered a bit at them.

I sighed and went back to pulling the boxes out. I said, "They're hand-me-downs, I don't really get clothes for myself besides my glasses." It was good that there was another adult to witness the conditions they kept me in, if not a bit better now...

Snape raised an eye, "These clothes are huge, I assume they were hand-me-downs from your morbidly obese cousin. How can you wear these things? They must fall off of you... you're a small boy." I shrugged, "I'd be larger if I was fed properly." I started stacking books in the boxes when Snape gripped my shoulder, "They don't feed you?"

"Only when I do something strange, like the time the glass keeping this snake in at the zoo disappeared, and my cousin fell into the cage and got stuck in the hospital for a few days... I kept the snake." I turned around and said, "Trajan, come."

Trajan slithered out from underneath the wardrobe and darted straight up my leg come to rest wrapping tightly around my wrist like a bracelet. Snape took back for a second and stared at me, "You speak... to snakes? like that?"

I nodded and Snape said, "Right, well. Let's get this done."

We took time to make sure we had gotten everything. Snape was impressed by the collection of books I had on my shelf, especially the ones regarding chemistry, and said that he'd get me some books I might like both from his collection and when we got school supplies. He had learned of some Muggle literature, particularly stuff from Hawking, who was apparently a wizard as much as a scientist.

However, when I went to pack the raggy clothing, Snape had gripped my wrist. I turned to look at him and he shook his head slowly. I knew what he meant. Leave the rags behind. Snape let go of my hand and slammed the wardrobe shut. We finished packing everything, from the broken electronic equipment, to my books, whatever else I had. Snape shut the trunk and tapped his wand to it. The trunk shrunk to the size of a small cellular phone. He handed it to me and said, "Don't lose it, put it in your pockets."

I slipped the trunk in my pocket and Snape said questioningly, glancing behind him, "So, you don't like it here, I take it."

I shook my head, "No, sir."

Snape nodded curtly and said, "Well then..." We were outside and he said, "Do they have another car?"

I nodded and pointed to the Garage. Snape used his wand to open it. He walked up to the car and once again, used his wand to manipulate something. This time, it was the gasoline sitting in the tank. He pulled it out into a bucket Vernon kept in the garage for whatever purposes I never really knew. The bucket, now full of gasoline, was carried into the house very slowly. Snape took the bucket and quickly splashed it all over Uncle Vernon's favorite chair. Snape smiled and grabbed my arm and very briskly took me out of the house.

While we were outside, Snape said, "Now then, Potter, as much as your father and I couldn't deal with each other, I know what it is like to have abusive relatives. For your own sake, I promise you will never be in those incompetent Muggles care again." He drew his wand and aimed it at the front window where Vernon's chair was. He said with cold apathy, "Incendio." A bright flame leapt from his wand and spewed across the front lawn of the Dursley house and caught the window. The window cracked and the flames flooded into the room, catching on the gasoline-soaked chair. An explosion burst the roof off as the flames towered high. Snape continued to spray fire on parts of the house, soon the entire thing was burning like the Great Fire of Rome.

Snape stopped his stream of fire and immediately apperated us away.

We were now standing in the middle of a seedier part of London. Snape said, "It is done, that fire will rip through that house like the fires of hell, and they will pay penance for their abuse." He nodded, "Come along, Potter, you're going to be staying at the Leaky Cauldron, right through here-"

I looked at the building. It was rather run-down looking, but it seemed very popular. Passing into the building, Snape approached the front-desk and said, "Tom, if you'd please, I need one room for the boy."

I looked at the man behind the counter. He was an older gentleman, and his eyes locked on my scar and he said, eyes widened, "My word, Severus, is that-"

Snape cut him off, "Yes, and I would like his affairs kept private. One room."

Tom pulled his eyes away from me for a minute and looked to Severus before nodding, "Aye then, one room." He handed Snape the key. Snape handed me the key and said, "Potter, go to the room on the key and unpack. Tomorrow we'll do some shopping and deal with your family accounts at Gringotts. Get some sleep."

He gave me a pat on the back and said, "If you need me, which I hope you really don't, I'll be three rooms down. Good night, Potter."

"Good night, sir." I stated as we proceeded up the stairs to our individual rooms. Laying on the bed, I gave a bit of a sigh. The Wizarding World was my new home then. Snape had effectively torched my old one... but that wasn't exactly home though, right? I mean, I was treated like a slave... and they beat me and starved me... so maybe...

You know what? This new world may just be a great place for me to live. With the people I was meant to be with. I rolled over in bed and kicked off my shoes and socks and climbed under the blankets. As I began to drift off to sleep I thought, "_Maybe there is something to magic. Sounds like fun._"

* * *

**That is Chapter 1. **

**6,410 words. **

**That's about 3 chapters of my normal fanfictions combined. You're welcome. Hopefully this one will survive. Updating will be slow as it took me 3 days to write this one chapter XD  
**


	2. Kulturkampf

**Harry Potter: Götterdämmerung**

* * *

**Chapter 2: Kulturkampf  
**

* * *

I never did like mornings. It was really early when a very sharp rap sounded on the door. For a brief second, I thought that the previous night had been a dream, but upon opening my eyes, I found that it really wasn't. The banging on the door didn't stop and a voice filtered in, "Potter, get up now! If you're as lazy as your father, you can shop for yourself!"

I glanced at the alarm clock sitting on the side-table. It was only 730. I got out of bed and looked at my wrinkled clothing and gave a distinct sigh and remembered that Professor Snape had ordered me to leave my clothes in the Dursley house, which is now a pile of ash... right. I walked over to the door, slipped into my blown-out sneakers and opened the door. Snape looked at me and his lip turned into a disgusted curl, "Absolutely atrocious." He swiped his wand and my clothes dewrinkled. He said, "When we go to Diagon Alley today, we will get your school supplies and some money, and then we will go to Muggle London where you will get some clothes that aren't trashy. No son of Lily Potter will walk around wearing rags."

He seemed pretty fixated on my mother. That's probably something I should look into, but, you know. His private life isn't exactly my business, I'm not Aunt Petunia. I quickly followed him down the flight of stairs, entering the main pub area. As we walked through the main pub, a giant man entered the building. I stopped and stared at the man and said, "Woah, he's big." He towered over me like Goliath over David. I was afraid he'd eat me or something, but Snape said, "That's Hagrid... he's the Keeper of the Keys at Hogwarts." The giant man, Hagrid, looked down at Snape and myself and said, "Ah, Professor Snape, takin' 'Arry to go shopping then, are ya?"

Snape nodded and opened his mouth before a crowd of people swarmed around me. I was dizzy for a minute as people were crowding to say hello or welcome back. We ended up in front of one particular man in a purple turban. Snape said, "Ah, Professor Quirrel. A pleasure as ever." He looked to me, "Potter, this is Professor Quirrell... He's your..." this is where his voice grew a bit bitter, "Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for this year." I, being ever the gentleman, tried to shake his hand, but he quickly yanked it back and stuttered out an apology and whisked passed us upstairs. I looked to Snape who said, "He's a bit of a stuttering fool. From what I saw, you aren't much for social interaction, Potter."

I shook my head, "I grew up in a cupboard, where the only social contact I got was hatred, I don't even know how to deal with people being that nice."

Snape nodded, "Fame can do things to people and make them arrogant. Fortunately, that poison hasn't reached you yet. Take care not to let it, because you'll find yourself to be a loathsome character."

We turned a corner and we faced a brick wall. Strange, I thought. "Why are we here, aren't we going to the shops?"

Snape said nothing, drew his wand and tapped a series of bricks on the wall. The bricks pulled in and rotated out, revealing a large alleyway already starting to crowd up for the day's shopping. Stores lined the streets, with a large center in the middle. A tall white marble building stood in the center with a plaza surrounding it with food stores. Snape said, "That is Gringotts. The bank of the wizarding world. It has the best security in the world, only the stupid would dare rob it of it's riches. There's so much intricate tunneling beneath it that any thief would be lost for a century below."

I gave a nod, before stating the obvious, "Unless that thief had an inside man, was extremely lucky, or had a means of escaping like... a dragon. Since it's miles deep of a chasm, there is an obvious need for a transportation mechanism, and there is definitely room for defenses, which would likely involve a gigantic creature that could navigate easily through the caves... so by that logic, a really intelligent person could pull off a heist... or a really unsuspecting person."

Snape looked at me silently and finally said, "Excellent point, Potter."

We approached the bank and went up the marble steps before entering the grand foyer of the bank. A large square table encircled the far end of the foyer, with various tellers helping wizards who were passing through. Hagrid passed us by and approached Griphook's desk while Snape and I curved and ended up at the desk of Tyr, an older goblin who didn't hold as much of a violent demeanor than Griphook. Tyr said, "Good morning, Mister Snape, I assume you're here to review your accounts for the month?"

Snape shook his head, "Not today, Tyr, I'm here to help Mister Potter get some money for his Hogwarts supplies." Tyr glanced over the desk at me and said, "Harry Potter, as in the Boy-Who-Lived? It's a pleasure to meet you, son." He leaned back and said, "Have you got his key, Severus?"

Snape gave a curt nod and pulled a small bronze key from his pocket. He placed it on the desk and the goblin glanced at it and nodded, "Follow me, gents." He lead Snape and I down a dim hallway, emerging at a large track. He gestured into what appeared to be a 19th century mine cart with magical attachments. We boarded and Tyr took us off down the cavern. The cart stopped dead in front of a large metal door dating back what looked to be the days of the Saxons. In the middle of the door was a large phoenix with a keyhole in the center. The frame of the vault door had French writing on it. "_L'humanité peut tomber, mais la connaissance est toujours._"

I gave a raised eyebrow. I knew that the Potter name was Norman in origin, and had come to England in 1066 with William the Bastard's invasion force... My mother's last name, which was Evans, based on Aunt Petunia's maiden name, was Welsh/Cornish. I didn't speak French very well, but I knew that the first word was at least, humanity.

I said, "Professor Snape..." He looked at me as Tyr opened the door. "Yes, Potter?"

I pointed to the words. "What does that say?"

Snape gave a hum, "It's French, fortunately I speak it. It says "Humanity may fall, but knowledge is forever." He snorted, "Considering James Potter, that must've skipped a generation, then."

I glared at him, "I'd appreciate it if you didn't bad mouth my father, sir."

Snape nodded, "My apologies, I have many reasons to be upset with him even in the after-life, but you don't deserve such treatment. Come now, we have to examine this vault."

Tyr spoke, "Vault 687, a trust vault set up by James and Lily Potter on August 3, 1980." I peered inside. There was a mountain of gold reaching toward the ceiling. I marveled at it and said, "I'm rich?"

Snape nodded and said, "The Potter family is one of England's more noble ones. The Potters came over with William the Wizard during his invasion of the Saxon England in 1066. The Potter family stopped being majorly relevant in the muggle world, but they're one of the richest in the wizarding world. This is just your trust vault, your parents vault is probably much larger."

I let out a happy hum, "Luckily I don't live with my relatives anymore, if they had known I had this much money, they would've seized it all."

Tyr snickered, and I looked at him, "What?"

Tyr stated in a "as-a-matter-of-fact" voice, "Wizarding inheritance works in a manner in which there is no possible way for proxy relatives to inherit wealth if not specified by the family. The Potter family titles, lands and wealth all Agnatic-Cognatic Magical Primogeniture, meaning that the only people who can inherit are the magical children of the family." He continued, snapping his fingers and summoning a folder, "For example," He smacked a finger down in the folder, "James Potter, having only one child, means that all of his possessions passed to your ownership the day you received that scar. The other two heirs to the Potter fortune were Sirius Black and Remia Lupin, who were specified as your regents in 1980."

"Regents, like a King's regents?" I asked, my eyebrow raised in question

"Yes, indeed. Sirius Black and Remia Lupin would be in charge of your affairs, however, Mister Black is currently in Azkaban for murdering 11 Muggles and Peter Pettigrew... and Miss Lupin is a known werewolf, therefore both of them were, despite Gringotts' objections, struck from regency. The Ministry has been trying to assume regency over your accounts since 1983, but thanks to Goblin Law, Gringotts has been managing the properties."

He closed the folder, "While we're on that line of inquiry, perhaps Mister Potter would like to list a new regent so he can access his parents fortunes, properties and benefits thereof?"

I blinked, "I don't really know any-" I looked over at Snape, "Could Professor Snape do it?"

Snape was taken aback for a minute before saying, "I would... be honored, Harry."

Tyr nodded, "We'll get that squared away after you finish withdrawing money, Lord Potter."

I nodded, pulled out a small black bag that Snape had given me the previous night, and put two handfuls of gold coins in them. I turned to Tyr and said, "...How much Muggle money is in my trust vault?"

The goblin gave a chuckle and said, "Last time we counted, your trust vault had approximately 1,800,000 galleons total, including all the sickles and knuts compiled together, which based on the translation between the muggle quid and the wizarding galleon... you've got about £9million in your trust vault."

My eyes bulged out and I nearly fell over before I said, "...This is just a trust vault, h-h-how much do I have in my parents vaults?"

The goblin gave a happy sigh, "It's a pleasure seeing people realize how wealthy they are in muggle money sometimes. It's a silly thing, wealth, but it's so good to have as a symbol of power."

He snapped his fingers and checked the registry book and said, "The Potter vault contains approximately 9,000,000 galleons in raw wealth, plus the combined values of the Potter House at Godric's Hollow, which is valued based on it's pre-attack condition at 120,000 galleons... Potter Manor in Manchester, worth about 1.4million galleons... Edward's Manor in Dunkirk, France, valued at about 2.1million galleons, and various muggle businesses, schools and properties, such as Grunnings, Smeltings Academy and Stonewall High, valued 2million galleons, 200k galleons and 50k galleons respectively, and properties such as 4, 5, 6, and 7 Privet Drive, all equally valued at 100k galleons."

I actually fell over into the pile of galleons causing a slight avalanche. I managed to sit up and said, "I own... my relatives property?" Tyr nodded and I said, "Well, I just lost 100k galleons, eh, Snape?"

Snape began to laugh and Tyr raised an eyebrow, "What's so funny?"

I managed to contain my laughter for a minute and said, "We torched it yesterday because they were abusing me!"

Tyr snickered and said, "We can rebuild it, make it more valuable."

I shrugged, "Let's just wait. They'll have to contact the person who owns it eventually. I'd like to rub it in their face that 4 Privet Drive is owned by the Potter family. Ha! So anyway, Tyr, grand total of that is?"

"29.89million galleons, which is around £150million... add the extra 9million pounds, and you're worth £159million."

I made a whistling sound and said, "Wow, not even any lucrative muggle businesses and I'm loaded. Perhaps I should start investing on the muggle stock market. I hear Microsoft's a good play."

The goblin rubbed the back of his neck, "Would you like to invest? We can easily set it up with our contacts at the muggle stock exchanges in New York, London and Tokyo."

I gave a nod and we quickly withdrew a good bit of money, more than enough to cover costs in both Wizarding London and Muggle London, and quickly left, having invested some of my money in Microsoft Corp, which was relatively cheap, being only worth about 1 US dollar.

When we emerged back into the streets of Diagon Alley, Snape commented, "What is funny is that the Potter family is the second richest family in Britain, behind my own, and we're both half-bloods."

Half-blood, I could assume it meant Muggle parent and Wizard parent, and I could assume why they were richer. "I guess it's because half-bloods are more knowing of the muggle world and therefore use their Galleons on the stock markets like I just did?"

Snape nodded, "Sharp mind, Potter. Yes, that's exactly it. Now, let's gather your wizarding belongings first."

We walked down the main part of Diagon Alley, and I took the opportunity to look at some of the shops. A shop all about some sport called Quidditch, A book store, A pet store, an apothecary, a wand shop, a thrift store for second-hand acquisitions, etc. He guided me to a store called "Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions". The store was pretty nice looking and had models in the front window for Hogwarts uniforms. I compared the male uniform, which involved a white shirt, a tie that "changed colour to match the house assigned", black slacks, black dress shoes and a very nice looking black robe over it, that had accents which would "change with house". All in all, it was very nice.

I glanced over at the girl's outfit and nearly facepalmed. The girl's outfit was just an injustice - they were forced to wear a tiny grey skirt, stockings, _Mary Janes_ and have a little girly bowtie instead of a regular tie. That kind of shit irked me deeply because I saw how some of the girls were forced to dress at my primary school, looking like little innocent things when in reality, _they were no different than I. _Except in the biological part of things. I entered the store as Snape disappeared saying he was "going to get things for my pet, and trusted I could do this robe store without screwing up." and promptly took a look around for a short time as Madam Malkin finished up with this one blonde-haired kid who looked like one of those shifty types.

I glanced around the male section. The boy's robes were seriously bland, and had little style to them, unlike the clothes of Muggles, which had a deep meaning to style. The girl's robes were even more ridiculous. Most of them were ultra-conservative. I made a note to ask Professor Snape about why women in the wizarding world dressed so dowdy and conservatively. I could guess a good answer, but I figured a man like him would know for sure. I stepped up onto the platform and her magical instruments measured me. The woman gave out an inhuman gasp, staring at my measurements. She gave me a scolding to "eat more" before she disappeared into a backroom to find the proper attire and the door opened, and the service bell rang.

I looked over to see a shy bushy-haired girl with a bit of an overbite slowly walk in and sit down in a chair. I decided to engage the girl. "Hello."

The girl jumped a bit and gave a small smile, "Hi."

Poor thing had no social tact what so ever, but then again, neither did I, I craved it, as compared to her reclusion. "The name's Harry Potter, what's yours?"

"Hermione Granger."

I smiled, "Your parents are muggles, I assume?"

"What makes you think that?" She asked, her voice taking on a slightly offended tone.

"Oh, nothing, it's the way your dressed. Muggle clothing instead of the stupidly conservative way women in this world dress. Seriously, hon. Get a fucking boy's uniform."

Hermione gave a bit of a giggle and said, "Well maybe I will, Potter!"

I grinned, "Good." As I paid for my things and dashed out, she called, "Goodbye, Potter!" And flashed a toothy grin, her silly overbite fully visible. Ah, I loved doing that, breaking people from their shells.

I called back as I disappeared into the crowds, "Bye, see you on the train, Granger!" I kept walking to where Snape said he'd meet me. He was carrying a small bag and said, "Excellent, Potter. You've made a friend. It's always good to have friends at Hogwarts, keeps you from being abused by people."

I nodded, "Well, it's always nice, I guess. I've never had friends before... so, hey, what'd you get at the pet store?"

Snape smirked, "Just a few things for your snake. Usually they're not allowed in Hogwarts, but you know, when somebody has a familiar, we can't really say no." He jerked his head, "Let's get your books then."

We made the walk up toward the book store and I asked him, "Professor, women's fashion in the wizarding world. It seems like it never progressed out of the Dark Ages."

He snorted, "Understatement of the year, Potter. I call this place the Land That Feminism Forgot. Women raised in this world have expected men who are rough and coarse, and the social standings expect women to be these beautiful ladies-in-waiting, hoping to get betrothed to a man who will treat her like the Queen. For many of us who are socially uncouth, it leads to a life of misery. There are even social expectations for heirs, and if your wife can't provide, the Ministry actually authorizes polygamy and mistresses in order to further it."

I gave a wild look at the man, "Sounds like Medieval Europe without the Papacy mucking about."

Snape nodded, "Pretty accurate, considering the Statute of Secrecy was passed around the time of the First Crusade, along with the underage wizardry laws, during the reign of William II. It basically forbid magical children from playing with magic because of the high mortality rate, of course most of the wizarding world opposed it, but eventually, they came to accept both statutes."

I let out a long grumble and Snape said, "However, in places like Hogwarts, or private magical residencies in magical areas, there is little regulation as there are so many magical signatures around, nobody can tell who performed what, and the Ministry usually expects parents to discipline their children."

I smiled, "Cool, because I really want to get a feel for my magic before the school year starts."

Snape nodded curtly, "Well, you'll be staying at the inn until the school year begins. I'll try to arrange for you living at Potter Manor or something like that as soon as possible, it's just hard with no adults to keep an eye on you, boy, especially with your level of fame in the wizarding world."

I gave another nod as we turned into the book-store. It was indeed a magical bookstore as it seemed to stretch on forever, magical book after magical book. I gave another happy trill and quickly stormed around the store picking out interesting things. Snape had refrained from stopping me as I bought books that weren't even necessary for First Years, such as The Complete Lexicon of Potion Ingredients, which was apparently updated with new ones everytime they were discovered. The book was first published during the times of Merlin, hundreds of years ago.

I had a vast mass of books for many subjects piled up before long, and I paid for all of them and Snape helped me load them into the chest, which he then reshrunk. He said, "You got yourself a lot of books, Potter."

I nodded, "I like to read, sir. I figure in the next month I can read up on Potionmaking, and maybe some advanced subjects in hopes of becoming an expert wizard, especially if I'm some sort of messiah."

Snape gave a curt nod, "If you're going to do some research on Potionmaking, I've got something for you then, but it'll take me time to get it." He checked the list of things and said, "We've got your school robes, your books and pet supplies. We need to get you a wand, a cauldron, a telescope, some glass vials for Potions, some brass scales, and that should be it."

We quickly got the etcetera stuff before approaching Ollivander's Wand Shop, the oldest store in the entire Alley, with "EST. 382 BC" printed on the sign. 382 BC, that would make it right around the time of the Roman invasion of Britain - Christ, they'd been there for that long?! The shop had a very musty air to it, but was relatively clean. An old man stood behind the counter, reading the Daily Prophet, which was from observation, the newspaper of the wizarding world. When he saw he had customers, he quickly tossed the paper aside and said, "Hello, welcome to Ollivander's Wands, the finest in all of Eur-"

I knew what that sudden cutting off in mid-sentence was. Sure enough, he was staring at my scar. I swiped my hair over it and glared at him and he seemed to get the memo - _Quit staring, git_. He said, "Yes. Mister Potter, Professor Snape, I assume you're both here for Mister Potter to recieve his wand?"

Snape nodded, "With speed, if you don't mind, Garrick. We're in a hurry."

Garrick Ollivander quickly walked into the back rows of wands. He gathered several and set them out in front of me at the counter. They all bore the symbol of Ollivander's Wands. Garrick said, "Mister Potter, the wand chooses the wizard, and at the age of eleven, all wizards and witches get their very first wand." He smirked, "But wizards may get more wands based on their position. For example, every family has a heirloom wand, carried down from the earliest ancestors... however, sadly, your family does not have a family wand, for some reason. Nobody has questioned it, and every Head of House has known the reason why, and has refused to diverge why they have not crafted a new one."

Snape cut in, "Then I would suggest Potter follow the wishes of his ancestors and keep his family wand a secret." Ollivander looked at Snape and nodded, "Then just the one for the boy."

I hated this part. We went through several wands, of varying cores, varying lengths and varying woods, before he looked at me oddly and handed me a wand in a black box, unlike the rest which were pine green. I took the wand in my hand and the wand let off a shower of golden sparks and quite strong energy, causing the wind to kick up in the shop. It was exhilarating!

I looked at Ollivander who looked very intrigued. I raised my eyebrow, "What?"

The man said, "I know every wand I've ever made... This wand contains a phoenix feather core... of which phoenix gave two feathers, an extremely rare event. The other wand... was the one that gave you that scar." He pressed his finger to my scar and said, "We can expect great things for you, for you have been given the brother wand, the brother wand indeed..."

I was a bit peeved, "Who is this bloody lunatic then!?"

Snape pressed his hand on my shoulder, "I will tell you about it later, Potter, when we're in private."

He helped me pay for the wand and we proceeded up the street towards the inn. We had finished all of our errands in the wizarding world for now, and Snape escorted me up to the room to put my stuff down before we traveled to the muggle world. Our trip to the muggle world was fantastic because I was once again anonymous, and we did our thing. I got some new clothes that weren't shite, and we retired to the inn for the evening.

* * *

"So, Professor. You promised me you'd tell about that deranged lunatic." I stated as we settled down for dinner. I hadn't really eaten since the previous day, so I was attacking my broth like a banshee. Snape swallowed his fill of his food and said, "Yes, Potter. Many years ago, the wizarding world was in a dark state. A group of people called Death Eaters roamed freely, causing mass hysteria and death in their wake..." He frowned, very deeply before stating, "They were under the lead of a man named Voldemort." He quickly bore his eyes into my eyes and said, "Don't say his name in public, Potter. It's... taboo now, as he still commands immense fear amongst people."

I nodded and said, "So... he killed my parents?"

Snape looked at me with hurt in his eyes and sighed, "I'm probably the best person you'd get a personal point of view from, unfortunately..." He drew his wand and cast a silencing spell around the table and said to me in a very quiet manner, "The night was Halloween 1981... Godric's Hollow, your homeplace, where the Potters lived..."

His voice grew quieter as he said, "Since you're intelligent enough to comprehend things, I'll tell you the truth, Potter..."

He sighed, "There was a prophecy made in 1979 by Professor Trelawney, the Divination professor at Hogwarts... she told it to Headmaster Dumbledore one night at the Three Broomsticks, a pub in Hogsmeade. You see, she had predicted that the Dark Lord would be bested by a child born the following July... July 31, your birthday, Potter. Only two boys born fulfilling the prophecy were born that day, July 31, 1980. Those two boys were you, Potter, and one other... Neville Longbottom. Either of you could have fulfilled his prophetic standards, but he chose you... the half-blood, because you were more like him than Longbottom."

I was ever so slightly suspicious of how he knew all of these things. "So... how do you know this?"

Snape looked away from me and said, "I was the one who told the Dark Lord."

I felt bile rise in my throat and raised my voice, "YOU TOLD THE DARK LORD ABOUT ME!?"

Snape sighed, "I...I made a mistake, Potter. I didn't know you, or your family were in the prophecy... The night it happened, Voldemort took me with, so he could show me his great triumph over the Order... and show that he was superior... and when we arrived, I realized what I had done. I pleaded to him to let your mother live at least, I couldn't do much outside that... but no, the Dark Lord was persistent. He stated that he would allow your mother to survive... but then put me down with a Cruciatus curse, and left me there while he killed her... and I heard every scream of agony, and your crying afterwards..."

"Cruciatus?"

"Crucifixion curse... pain equivalent to crucifixion, literally, the same pain Jesus Christ felt."

I nodded, "And then what?"

"He was destroyed, and you were retrieved by Dumbledore and given to your relatives."

I sighed, "Thanks for at least telling me the truth, Professor."

Professor Snape gave a curt nod, "You're welcome, Potter. Now, finish your meal and go to bed."

* * *

The month passed without a real issue at all, I had settled in and started learning much about wizardry. Snape had informed me that it was a secret loophole in the laws of wizardry that the Trace didn't apply until you boarded the Hogwarts Express, and then afterwards, when you're outside of school, you are watched to ensure you don't perform underage magic. Neat, innit?

Anyway, thanks to the lack of Trace on me thus far, I began to practice some of the spells in my textbooks. Snape frequently helped me out with learning them, after I told him I wanted to be ahead of the class before the year started so I proved myself worthy. Snape had given approval and helped me out. I had learned some really fundamental things, including a few fun spells. By the time September the First rolled around, I felt I was sufficient in my knowledge of wizardry, at least, basic knowledge. I had read "Hogwarts, A History" several times. There were many interesting facts in it that I had never knew.

Anyway, September 1. That's the day the Hogwarts Express leaves. Snape escorted me all the way to the train station, and we stopped in front of Platform 9 and Platform 10. My stuff was all loaded, and he said, "Now, Mister Potter. You are going to want to board the train at Platform 9 and 3 Quarters, which is located just through this barrier. You need to get some speed, and you'll be carried to the platform... I hope you understand?"

I gave a nod and he said, "Good, I will see you at the station, Potter." He snapped up his wand, and apparated away. I followed his instructions and quickly transcended across the barrier into the platform. I was taken a back for a brief moment upon seeing the bustling platform. I happily wheeled my cart up toward the entrance to the train when I heard a female voice call to me, "Hey, Harry!" I turned to see Hermione Granger running up the platform with her parents following behind. She approached me and said, "Hi, how has the rest of your summer been so far? Mine's been great!"

I smiled. I really liked this girl, she was shy, but quirky. I said, "Hello, Hermione. My summer's been great since, I've had great company in the form of Professor Snape."

"That's brilliant, well, let's go find a compartment." She and I quickly boarded the train and found a compartment near the entrance, and loaded our belongings onto it. We sat down and began to converse about the books we'd read among other things. Hermione had bid her parents goodbye, and we were happily riding along. I told her about the Trace, and she told me she'd not knew about that and stated, "Oh. I didn't know that. Seems kind of shifty they watch our magic innit?"

"I'd say so, but I guess it's because we're kids and whatever other nonsense. Completely Orwellian drivel."

"_Ohhhh_, you read Orwell?" She asked, her eyes lighting up a bit. I nodded, "I read more than just Orwell, Granger. I read many things."

She gave a grin and said, "Have you read any of your books for the year, Harry? Or have you been sticking your nose in dystopian novels the entire time?"

I faked being offended and said, "Well, I'm offended! Of course I did, I'm not going to slack off an entire summer doing nothing!"

We laughed some and kept chatting. Half way through the journey, the door slid open and a frightened red-haired boy slipped in the door, and fell against it, panting heavily. I raised an eyebrow, "You okay, mate?"

The red-haired boy looked at me and said, "There was a spider in my... compartment... I hate spiders."

I shrugged, "Well, you're welcome to sit here until the eight-legged demon that are spiders runs off. I'm Harry, and this is Hermione... What's your name?"

The boy gawked at my scar and I very harshly said, "Quit staring at it, asshole." The boy's eyes snapped off of it and he noticed the glare both Hermione and myself were giving him. He said, "Um, my name's Ron. Ron Weasley."

"Nice to meet you, Ron, now, how big was the spider?"

"It was hairy and disgusting and so very lar-"

"How big."

"...About 8cm."

Hermione and I glanced at each other and dissolved into uproarous laughter at the red-headed boy's predicament. I said, "Oi, here, easily taken care of." I said, "Trajan, sic that spider." The snake uncurled from my leg and said, "Alright." And slithered out of the compartment quickly. Ron stared at me slackjawed. "You can speak Parseltongue?"

"Parsel-what?"  
"Parseltongue. The language of Salazar Slytherin, he spoke it to snakes. You-Know-Who also spoke it, but that was it. It's a dark magic kind of talk. You shouldn't speak it."

"What's so dark about being able to talk to snakes?" I bemused. These magical types were very superstitious.

"Because it's how You-Know-Who talked to his pet snake!"

"So?" I asked again. "What makes you think I'm anything like Moldyshorts?"

Hermione comically performed a spittake out of some of the juice her mother had packed for her. She laughed even louder, "Moldyshorts, that's brilliant Harry!"

I chuckled some, "I don't think there should be people labeling things that have no real dark application as Dark Magic. There's probably tons of things the idiots that you call your Ministry have banned by proxy. Sounds like the Germans trying to whitewash their culture after World War II by banning a bunch of objects of pride as a by-proxy Nazi kulturkampf."

"A what?"

I muttered to myself, "Damn wizards..."

"Kulturkampf, Ron. It's German for "culture struggle" It was originally used in the 19th century by Otto von Bismarck to reduce the power of Catholicism in Germany, but I'm using in this context as Germans trying to reduce the raw cultural power the Nazis held."

"What the devil are Naht-zehs?"

Both Hermione and I stared with shock at Ron. "You don't know what Nazis are!? No wonder the wizarding world hasn't progressed out of the fucking dark ages. You people don't know shit about muggle history. The Nazis were a group of fascists who ruled Germany in the 1930's and 1940's."

"...1940's? During the Second Great Wizarding War? That makes no sense, Grindelwald ran Germany back then." Ron replied, scratching his head.

"Great Wizarding War? Oh christ, there was a magical World War II to match?"

"Yeah, I guess."

Trajan slithered back in the room before I could reply, holding a spider in his jaws. He swallowed the dead spider and curled back up my leg, letting out a satisfied hiss. Ron shuddered at that, and sat down next to me.

I said, "But anyway, Ron, if you want to be our friend, you're going to have to get some muggle smarts, as well as wizarding smarts..."

* * *

**Chapter 2 complete~!**


	3. Threads, Trolls and Triumph

**Harry Potter: Götterdämmerung**

* * *

**Chapter 3: Threads, Trolls and Triumph  
**

* * *

The three of us were in a very active conversation as the Hogwarts Express passed up near the Scottish border at the town of Berwick-upon-Tweed. The Hogwarts Express still had a few hours of transit left, as the Castle Hogwarts rested up in the Highlands. The rain grew heavier and heavier, leading to the three of us being bored out of our minds. We had bought an assortment of snacks from the magically-regenerating trolley, and were playing a card game using some cards I had brought. We were actually betting on spending money. Hermione and Ron had gaped at the raw number of Galleons I still had kicking around in my bag, so I told them they didn't have to bet much in comparison to me.

The pot was riding high, 20 Galleons, 3 Sickles, 5 Knuts, and a Hrodbehrt the Wizard Chocolate Frog card, one of the many Ron was missing. Ron was sweating while me and Hermione looked confident - Ah, I loved her poker face sometimes.

He threw his cards down, "Full house."

She threw down the same cards, "Full house."

I said, "Oh my, well, that's a shame."

I put down a three of a kind and shrugged, "Oh well, split the pot up between you two." Hermione took 10 Galleons, 2 Sickles, and 2 Knuts while Ron took the remains of the money and the card.

I shuffled the deck, slipping the cards I had in with the cards in the deck and said, "Good game you guys, I think we're close to Hogwarts, though." I glanced out the window to see the Castle looming in the near direction. Hermione had already changed into her uniform, which was the male one with a few feminine flares that she had done herself, to her and her mother's pride. Ron had changed into his second-hand robes given to him from one of his countless brothers after rushing out of the compartment, and I began to change in front of Hermione, not really thinking about it.

She gasped, "Harry! Have some shame!"

I glanced at her, "Oh, you're going to see my underwear, you poor thing, it's not like I wear tighty-whiteys, Hermione, christ."

Hermione sputtered, "But we're the opposite sex!"

I rolled my eyes, "Yes, and you're not in puberty yet. I'll worry about changing in front of you when you've got boobs and I've got a hard-on, so until then, don't be such a fucking priss."

She smirked, "You're a persuasive boy, Potter. Fine then, hurry up."

I quickly changed into my robes and shrugged, glancing back at her. "Not so bad, was it?"

She shrugged as Ron slipped back into the compartment and said, "Merlin's beard, I got cornered by Draco in the corridor of the train, he's a ponce, that one."

I raised an eyebrow, "Draco? Who the fuck names their kid 'Dragon'?"

The red-haired boy gave a shrug, "The Malfoys are a dirty family. Their family tree is all the same, really. Everyone gets sorted into Slytherin, ends up either being a Dark Lord, or joining the team of one. This year Hogwarts gets two Malfoys - Draco and his brother James. Who knows what the hell sort of terror they'll unleash upon the school."

I raised an eyebrow, "Unless they like to beat on children and starve them half to death, I don't think they can do anything to me that I've not already been subjected to." To show my point, I showed one of the scars my uncle and aunt gave me.

Hermione's face turned the oh-so-lovely shade of Vernon purple. She grit her teeth, "Your own family did this to you!? How could nobody do anything?"

I chuckled and stated, "Well, doesn't matter now, I own their property, effectively. Snape torched the home, but you know, I still own the land."

Hermione's anger dissolved and she started laughing obscenely before getting serious. "You didn't kill anyone, did you?"

I shook my head, "No, no, the Dursley family was sitting on one of the Channel Islands getting pounded by waves like idiots."

She smiled, "Excellent."

* * *

The boat ride with Hagrid was an interesting one. I spied the Malfoy brothers from across the lake. The slimy blonde one looked self-sure, chatting away to his brother, who looked miraculously different. The brother had chocolate brown hair and brown eyes, compared to his brother's blonde/silver combination. He looked bored and was grinding his teeth a little bit at the constant annoyance that was obviously coming from his brother.

We had been corralled up some stairs onto a stairwell right in front of what was called the "Great Hall". An older Scottish woman had come to meet us and said in her heavy accent, "Welcome to Hogwarts, new students. Before you begin your education here, you will be sorted into four houses. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Slytherin." I glanced back at the Malfoy brothers. James was bored, Draco was smirking at the mention of Slytherin.

"In just a moment, you will be sorted in the Great Hall, wait here while I check on things." She disappeared and I felt a hand clasp on my shoulder. I turned to see Draco Malfoy's face smirking at me. I twitched ever so slightly. Draco reminded me so much of fatarse, with the general air he carried about himself. Draco said, "It's true! We've got Harry Potter joining our year. Well Potter, you should make the right friends, it'd get you many places. I see you're associating yourself with blood traitor nonsense, well no worries, my friend, I'll set you on a path that will have you succeed."

I grit my teeth and said darkly, "Malfoy, if you don't back away, I'm going to rip that smirking little lip of yours off your face and eat it."

Draco blinked and said, "Woah, Potter's a crazy!" He backed up some and I said, "Insulting me, my friends and my integrity as a person is an act of hostility that will lead to me disembowling you in a painful way. So don't start with me, bitch."

Draco slinked backwards angrily and whispered to a couple of fat boys who looked all tough. James gave a curt nod and a sly thumbs up gesture before motioning to Draco and making a rather crude sexual gesture implying that his brother was more homosexual than Freddie Mercury. At least, that's what I got in context. I turned back to face the door and we were brought in finally, to a sea of people wearing little black hats in a very stereotypical wizard/witch fashion from culture.

We were lined up, and the Scottish professor (McGonagall, I learned her name was) began calling out names.

"Falls, Alishia Rian"

A tall 11 year old with bushy light brown hair swept to the front, and sat down on the chair. The hat that was placed on her shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Black, Celestia Andrea"

A shorter 11 year old with short black hair shyly approached the front, and sat down on the chair. The hat was placed on her, and it shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Adams, Morrison Lucifer"

An average build 11 year old strolled up to the front. The hat called out, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Granger, Hermione Jean."

Hermione excitedly swept to the front and plopped down on the chair. "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Malfoy, Draco Lucius."

Draco slithered his way to the front and sat on the chair. The hat gave him no time and immediately shouted out, "SLYTHERIN!"

"Maloy, James Hadrian."

James curtly, with his arms folded behind him much like you'd see in portraits of old military general past, sat down on the chair. The hat was dropped on his head and the room was dead silent for a few minutes.

The hat said with much trepidition and hesitation, "...Gryffindor."

There was a collective gasp as Draco shouted, "THAT HAT IS FIXED!"

James stood up and said, "Thank you, Sorting Hat..." He went to go sit with Gryffindor, who all eye-balled him strangely.

"Potter, Harry James."

The same kind of collective gasp occurred as I maneuvered my way to the front of the line, and sat down. The hat was placed on my head and I could hear it speak to me on the inside of my conscious.

"Ah, Harry Potter, I've been waiting a good 11 years to see you, my boy. I sorted your parents many years ago today. Both were fine Gryffindors, but you seem to be such a rounded child, you would do well anywhere. Your logical appeal calls to Ravenclaw... your desire for social order calls to Hufflepuff, your intrigue skills and your connection with Professor Snape draws you to Slytherin, but alas, your strength of will, resolve and that power that courses through you to Walkurenritt do call to Gryffindor. As odd as it seems, I'm going to let you choose, boy." The hat stated, before waiting for my response.

I thought about it, for a moment. "Gryffindor, if you don't mind sir."

The hat nodded, "GRYFFINDOR it is!"

The Gryffindor row was cheering as I stood up, my clothing emblazoning itself in Gryffindor symbolism and colours. I sat down in between James and Hermione. I waited for sorting to end, many more were sorted. Ron, without real obviousness, was sorted in Gryffindor. Longbottom was sorted in Gryffindor too, strangely. Zabini went to Slytherin at the very end, formally ending the ceremony.

The Headmaster rose to speak and began to talk.

* * *

The sound of clattering forks and knives on plates echoed around us as Ron glared at James from across the table. I felt like if I reached for something, I'd lose a limb in the process.

Elephant in the room, it finally happened.

"I don't like the fact we have a Malfoy in our house." Ron stated quite loudly from across me.

James said in a rather pissed off tone, "Keep talking you pea-brained waste of oxygen, I don't think they heard you in Germany."

I stated, "I don't see what the problem is with having James in our house, he seems like a good guy."

James rolled his eyes, "Of course I'm a good guy, why wouldn't I be? Just because my father was a Death Eater does not mean that I'm going to be one. I detest Moldyshorts and his idea of dominating the world. Many men before him have tried, and all have failed."

I nodded, "Excellent points, guy. I like your middle name though. Hadrian. Ironic considering this is Scotland and-"

A Scottish-accented young boy's voice piped up, "OI, FUCK HADRIAN!"

"-well, they still don't like Emperor Hadrian's idea of a wall."

James shrugged, "Grandfather insisted I be named after a Roman Emperor as was standard tradition... so they chose Hadrian for my middle name. I don't mind it really."

I laughed some and said, "I like you, mate. We'll be good friends."

He smirked some before going back to eating.

* * *

That night had been interesting. I was bunked in the same dorm with James, Ron, and Shamus Finnigan. Each one of us had a different personality. We had decided to celebrate arriving at Hogwarts. I had actually stolen some nice whiskey from Uncle Vernon and I pulled it out from my baggage and showed it to my mates. All three's eyes gleamed. The four of us admitted that we had dabbled into alcohol at some point.

James had been casually consuming wine in a very noble fashion since he was 8 at dinner parties thrown every three months by his mum and dad.

Ron stated that it was a Weasley tradition to drink fire-whiskey every so often, as they felt it kept them healthy. I joked to him, "Fire-whiskey, eh? Must be why you're such a ginger. That shit must keep your hair burning bright as a candle." Everyone laughed their arse off at that.

Shamus was an Irishman and said, "Drinkin's in my blood. My da' used to take me to the pub every so often. Stereotypical I know, but you know. Pint of Guinness puts a li'l babe to sleep usually."

I conjured up some shot-glasses and we got piss-faced drunk the night before our first class.

The night ended up with Shamus river-dancing, James singing _Die Wacht am Rhein_ in slurred German, and Ron passed out on the floor, his drink running all over the floor. I remember saying, "Tell you'sh what, mate... I've got such a thing for that Granger chick. She's like, smart, but cool at the same fukkin' time."

Then my world went black and I woke up the next morning with my head feeling like ass to the second power. James said, "Grab your wands... and..." There was a moaning noise, "press it to your temple and say, "Sobrii ascendit."

I did what he said and felt my hangover evaporate away. I sat up and rubbed my head some where I had passed out. We quickly got ready for class. The bathroom in our dorm had four showers, thankfully.

Kind of funny, but stupid at the same time was James' singing.

"_Es braust ein ruf wie Donnerhall, wie Schwert liklirr und wogenprall, zum Rhein, zum Rhein, zum Deutschen Rhein~"_ came from across the bathroom. I shouted, "Oi, shut it with the German military music!"

He stopped and called back, "Sorry, then."

I laughed, "No trouble."

* * *

The couple weeks of school were absolutely dreadful in the sense that it was so **boring**.

My first Potions class was interesting, Snape grilled several of us with questions and literally tore down one of the First year Gryffindors in the back of the room. The Slytherin class guffawed uproarously.

Transfiguration was beautiful, an intensely logical magical art, McGonagall transformed from a cat to the strong-eyed woman in front of our eyes. I had arrived with James and Hermione early enough that we got to watch the hilarious entrance of Ron and Dean, both looking disheveled and panicked before Ron said, "Thank Merlin that McGonagall isn't here yet..."

The cat hissed and leapt off the table, transforming into the Scottish professor.

She said, "Mister Weasley, Mister Thomas, perhaps I should transfigure one of you into a pocket-watch so that you'd be on time. Sit."

The lesson itself was interesting though, we had to do some transfiguration practice, Hermione excelled like she usually did. I did decently, once I concentrated and understood the necessity enough, I figured it out. James was up there with Hermione as a wunderkind while Ron, Dean and Celestia struggled immensely to do the task.

September 12 was a red-letter day for me, though. It was a flying lesson, and Neville, being the clumsy thing he was, broke his arm after getting caught on one of the gargoyles. Draco had laughed about it, and picked up the lad's Remembrall. It was a little glass orb that has smoke in it. The smoke turns red if you've forgotten something, so it was a neat little thing for someone like him. Draco was taunting Neville before I said, "Oi, fucktruck. Give me the Remembrall, it isn't yours."

Draco scoffed. "You want it, Potty? Come get it~!" He took off into the air, floating high above me. I narrowed my eyes and took off into the air. We faced off for a few moments before I was joined by James. James smirked, "You really think I'm going to let you show up my brother without help? Come on, Potter."

Draco frowned, "James, I'm going to tell Father you're conspiring with blood-traitors and covering the Malfoy name with dirt!"

James rolled his eyes, "You're a fucking idiot, Draco. Now give up the Remembrall before I do what I did when we were kids."

Draco glared, "Not again... never again."

James charged and he leapt from his broom and tackled Draco. Just before getting tackled off his broom and falling a good 20ft to the ground with James, he hurled the Remembrall as hard as he could, it flying off towards one of the many towers.

I flew hard after the ball, and managed to narrowly catch it just before it impacted into the glass. I let out a breath of air in relief before turning to see Professor McGonagall slack-jawed. She had seen everything. We made eye-contact and her finger pointed downwards. I nodded and landed my broom in the quad. James and Draco were laying on the ground, and it was obvious there had been some bone-breakage involved. James' knuckles were bloodied much like Draco's nose. I looked closer and couldn't tell if the blood was from James's knuckles bleeding or Draco's nose.

Professor McGonagall within moments was on the field. She looked at James and Draco and said, "Can somebody escort Mister Draco Malfoy to the Medical Ward? Mister Potter, James... come with me, please."

We were taken down the long hallway before stopping outside Professor Quirrell's classroom, where she peered in, "Professor Quirrell. May I borrow Wood for a moment?" A taller boy entered the hallway and Professor McGonagall said, "Wood, I've found you a new Seeker and a new Beater."

Wood raised an eyebrow, "Harry Potter and James Malfoy? Professor, they're first years, there hasn't been a first year on a Quidditch team since-"

"Yes, Wood, I'm aware. 1891, and it was only at the request of the Queen, and he was brutally maimed and we banned it since. I am very well aware of that." She turned to both of us, "You two will report to Wood each Saturday for Quidditch practice. The season starts in November."

* * *

So James became known as the Youngest Beater in a Century, and I was the Youngest Seeker. We had some nice fame for awhile, and Wood helped us learn all that we needed to know about actually, you know, playing the sport in a professional level. James had a grin on his face constantly, "I've always wanted to play Beater... heh."

Charms went well for awhile, until Halloween... That day was what caused a bit of a tiff between me and Ron though - And I'll tell you why. We were learning our first charm, the Levitation Charm, _Wingardium Leviosa_. Hermione, as usual, was the first to practically understand it, and perform it. Ron was struggling, because of the regional dialect he spoke (He apparently lived in a strange country-house around York), he kept saying "_Leviosar_". Ron and Hermione's argument over the pronunciation of the spell made me glance over to them and mutter about Ron being a stubborn arsehead.

When the class ended, Ron was complaining loudly about Hermione. "She's an annoying brat, telling me what to do! She's got no friends, so she makes up for it by being annoying."

Hermione broke out into tears and brushed past Ron. I glared at him and James cuffed him upside the head. "You're incompetent, Weasley."

I rolled my eyes, "Ron, she does have friends. At least me, if not many others." I watched her disappear and said, "I can't be late for DADA, but I should probably go see if she's okay."

I looked around and saw Parvati Patil chatting with her twin sister. I quickly walked over to her and said, "Parvati, I need a favor from you."

Parvati looked at me and nodded, "What do you need, Harry? And what was wrong with Hermione?"

I sighed some, "Ron shot his mouth off like the ponce he is and Hermione's upset. Can you go look for her for me? I know you've got free study this period, and I think she really needs somebody, and I can't be late for DADA."

Parvati nodded, "I'll take care of it Potter. You run off." She went in the same direction that Hermione did and I made my way to DADA.

* * *

I was getting worried. Hermione still hadn't shown her face since the morning and it was getting late. I glanced down the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. She was missing the feast and I _knew_ that Halloween was one of her favorite holidays, at least from what she told me. I had prepped her some pumpkin spice tea which she noted was her absolute favorite flavor. Parvati was eating a few seats down and I walked over to her.

"Parvati, where's Hermione?"  
Parvati frowned, "She's still holed up in the bathroom. She's still sobbing her eyes out, poor thing. She thinks you hate her like Ron."

I bit my tongue and said, "Oh my... where is she?"

"Third floor bathroom."

I made my way for the door when Professor Quirrell burst through the door, knocking me over shouting, "TROLL IN THE DUNGEON! TROLL IN THE DUNGEON!" The idiot collapsed on the ground and writhed some gasping "troll!"

Dumbledore said, "Students, go to the Common Rooms. Staff, with me." The Prefects mobilized and began escorting people. I quickly broke rank and disappeared up flights of stairs. James followed me and said, "We're saving Hermione, aren't we?"

I nodded, "I'm not leaving her in that bathroom with a troll loose." We reached the third floor and I heard footsteps rapidly approaching. We ducked behind one of the large staircase beams, as Severus Snape entered the third floor corridor that Dumbledore had expressly forbidden, with his wand out.

I raised an eyebrow and said to James, "Why would Snape be going in there."

James shrugged, "I think it has to do with what they're protecting back there. On the first day I explored the corridor and found this gigantic three-headed dog sitting on a trap-door. I think there's something being hidden."

"What would they be protecting?"

James hummed, "It might have to do with the robbery that occurred at Gringotts on July 31."

"July 31? I was there..." I muttered, "Snape took me to my Vault... So he couldn't have robbed the bank, since he accompanied me the entire day..."

James shrugged, "Hermione. Let's go find her."

I nodded and we ran for the girl's bathroom on the level. I opened the door slowly and called to the sound of the sobbing, "Hermione?"

The miserable voice called back, "What do you want, Potter... come to call me a buck-toothed loser?"

I frowned and walked over to her stall and drew my wand, "Alohomora." The stall door unlocked and I swung it open. I looked at her and said, "Don't you ever think I'd make fun of you, Granger."

She looked at me and threw her shoe at my head. I ducked and jumped at her and wrapped her in a hug. "Listen to me, Hermione. You're the greatest thing I've had in my life, come on..."

She wiggled, "But you and Ron were talking about how I had no-"

She was silenced with a kiss. I let her go and she fell back onto her bum on the ground and stuttered. I mean, I didn't do it in mal-intent. I smiled at her and held out my hand, "I care a great deal for you, Hermione. Now, this is urgent. There's a mountain troll loose, and we need to get you out of here." Her confused and scared face turned into a sly smile and she took my hand. I lifted her up and dusted her off. She gave me a kiss on the cheek, "Icky, icky boy giving me cooties."

I laughed, "And girls are gross. Now, we should probably get out of here."

God must've really hated us, as at that moment, a large wooden club smashed through the wall, revealing an angry troll storming the corridors. I ducked backwards and said, "Alright, shit, we're too late..." I gave myself a few moments to collect and said, thinking back at the spells Snape and I had practiced in the summer. I raised my wand and shouted, "SECTUMSEMPRA!"

A dark red coloured beam shot out and the troll's chest was slashed. Blood oozed out as it grew even more frenzied. He made an attempt to grab me to eat me before James shouted from behind him, "Vinculum!" A bunch of black ropes sprung out from his wand and made the effort to wrap around the troll. He grabbed me and lifted me up into the air and swung me. My leg connected with one of the stall walls, and I felt a painful snap in my leg. I shouted through the pain, "HERMIONE! LEVITATE THE CLUB AND HIT THE DAMN THING IN THE HEAD!"

She nodded, "Wingardium Leviosa!" She lifted up the club and dropped it quite brutally on the skull of the troll. The troll spit up blood and fell backwards onto the tile. He released me and I fell onto the ground.

Hermione gasped, "Oh my God, Harry! Your leg!"

I looked at it and saw that my leg was effectively twisted around. My limb was mutilated and looked absolutely horrid. I grunted and said, "Now, get me to Madame Pomfrey before I die of shock!"

At that moment, Dumbledore and several teachers, including Snape, stormed into the destroyed bathroom and were taken aback by the destruction. McGonagall said, "Mister Potter! Your leg... you three are so foolish for thinking you can take on a troll!"

I gasped some and said, weakly, "I wasn't trying to take it on. Hermione was crying, and I came to find her and the troll... found us instead... We killed it... but uh... I think I need medical attention."

My view went dark after that.

* * *

"He's waking up!" a shrill voice sounded. I opened my eyes and glanced around. The Hospital Ward was kind of nice. I groaned and rubbed my head and saw the blurred outline of Hermione Granger staring at me. I could tell because of her brown eyes and that hair. I chuckled some and said, "Hi, Hermione... um, where's my glasses?"

She made a noise and said, "Um, they're kind of... beyond repairable. A optometry wizard will be coming by soon to correct your eyesight instead of getting you a new pair."

I rubbed my eyes and sighed. "So... are you okay?"

She nodded, "Yes, I am... and so are you, they had to fix your leg. You've been sleeping for two days. It's November 2nd."

I groaned and felt my leg bandaged beneath the sheets. "Oh, good, it's still in one piece at least... excellent."

I heard the door open and a group of people assembled before me. A male voice said, "Ah, hello Mister Potter. I'm Doctor Schmidt... I'm a wizarding optometrist from St. Mungo's." He sat down in a chair by my bed and said, "Now, this will tingle a bit." He tapped his wand to the bridge of my nose and said, "_Aliquet oculorum clara semper, iterum defectus numquam confusi sunt._"

I felt this kind of burning tingling in my eye sockets as my eyesight began to slowly focus in like a camera. The German wizard doctor's face became clearer. The man had a very large beard and looked like he stepped out of a history book. He grinned, "How is that, son?"

I looked at everyone, clear as a bell. Snape, McGonagall, Dumbledore, James, Hermione and the Weasley Twins were around my bed. I grinned, "Oh yeah, this is awesome. I can see clear as ever."

The doctor nodded, "Good on that. I've been performing eyesight correction since the Franco-Prussian War. Always been my niche." He grinned and shook my hand before departing.

Dumbledore said, "Mister Potter, I'm glad to see you're okay. You're very brave for how you worried about a friend like that."

I nodded, "Thanks sir, I didn't intend to be a vigilante. I was just worried about Hermione." I reached over and grabbed her hand and smiled. Dumbledore grinned, "Ah, young romance in bloom. Always a beautiful sight. Anyway, I decided to delay this judgement until after you healed."

"Twenty points to Harry Potter, James Malfoy and Hermione Granger for helping the staff in defeating the troll."

Snape nodded and said, "Potter, what you did was a foolish thing, but your compassion for friends and selflessness shocked even me... especially with what you did to that troll." He nodded, "I am proud you used something of mine to help defeat a great beast. I will ensure," turning to Professor Dumbledore, "that such things never happen again, sir."

He left the room quietly and Dumbledore said, "You should be good to be checked out today... you'll need to walk with a crutch for a good few days, but you should be fine for the first Quidditch game this Sunday." He smiled and departed with the rest of the staff.

Hermione and I smiled at each other before turning away grinning. Damn you, Dumbledore with that jibe about romance. I didn't love her - I had a crush, an innocent 11 year old crush... I think.

I shrugged and let go of her hand before muttering about trolls. "So, guys, do you want to go investigate why Snape was heading into the third floor corridor?"

James smirked, "We can do that, my friend."

He stood up and said, "You said the day of the robbery, Hagrid was the only other Hogwarts-related person in the building... maybe he has an idea of what we're looking for."

Hermione sarcastically stated, "And he's just going to... tell us?"

I shrugged, "It's a good place to start, Watson."

She smirked, "Of course, Detective Holmes, I trust your judgement."

We grinned. The game was afoot.


	4. Quidditch, Quirrel, and Questions

**Harry Potter: Götterdämmerung**

* * *

**Chapter 4: Quidditch, Quirrel, and Questions  
**

* * *

The first Quidditch game happened on the Third of November. I was nervous as hell walking onto that field for the first time. Wood was worked into a frenzy as the game began. I took into the air and waited.

The game began quite quickly and I took to the high ground searching for the Golden Snitch. My better eyesight helped me survey the area, but I had told Wood that "I guarantee nothing". But I _needed_ to find the damn Snitch. Everything for Gryffindor was going to shit. The Hufflepuff were drilling quite brutally through the defensive line, and I had to keep narrowly avoiding certain death by a Bludger.

I ducked another one and swept in a long curve, spying my eye on a glimpse of gold in the distance. I charged directly for it, missing it narrowly, and having to correct course. I buzzed right over the Headmaster's head, much to his delight.

I met eyes with the Hufflepuff Seeker, and I made progress to avoid being bludgeoned while circling the field. However, right as I spied the Golden Snitch, my broom went on a chaotic bucking. I didn't really understand what was going on, but it kept bucking like an insane animal. I kept a tight grip on it, but I had zero control.

I glanced to my right to see Snape and Quirrell both muttering in Latin. I narrowed my eyes and felt for my wand underneath my uniform. I tapped the bucking broomstick of mine with it and said, "Expungo." The broomstick slowly stopped, giving me control again. I glared at both of them for a moment to see Quirrell's head down, rubbing his temples. A common side-effect of having a curse line broken suddenly.

I spotted the golden snitch, and dived for it. However, I couldn't pull up quick enough, and I felt the sickening snap of my broomstick as it impacted the ground. I had gotten the snitch, but I tumbled for several dozen feet before coming to a stop. Gryffindor students mobbed the field in cheer as I threw my hand up with the golden snitch in hand.

Unfortunately, I'd later come to find that my new broom was destroyed.

* * *

"Absolutely brilliant job, Harry! But what was going on with your broom!?" Celestia asked as I sat down on the couch with Hermione, holding a shot of whiskey. Hermione said, "I think Snape was cursing Harry. I saw him muttering something in Latin, but he stopped when Harry got control of his broom back."

I shook my head, "Quirrell. I cast a cancellation spell on my broom and it was Quirrell that got the back-effects. Snape was using a _counter-curse_ of all things."

I took the shot and Hermione said, "Really? He was helping you?"

I nodded. "I believe so at least. I mean, he has no reason not to help me. If he had wanted to ice me, he could've just done it on my birthday when we were in the depths of Gringotts. Harry Potter falls to his untimely death, whole world in shock, gets away scot-free... Even if he did contribute to my parent's death, I have no reason not to trust him now."

Hermione and Celestia gasped, "HE DID WHAT!?"

I said, "Alright. So Professor Snape told me the whole story. In 1980, Sybill _Trelawney, _the current Professor of Divination here at Hogwarts had a moment of clarvoyance. She gave some shoddy predicition, and Snape in his haste, ran off to tell Moldybutt about it. He didn't hear all of it though. When Voldemort took Snape to my house that night, he incapacitated Snape when he had doubts of this mission... but he wasn't the one who outed my parents... it was-"

Celestia sighed, "-Sirius Black. The secret-keeper, traitor of the Potters, and the man responsible for the infamous murder of Peter Pettigrew and 11 muggles... currently rotting in _Azkaban_."

I raised an eyebrow, "...How'd you know about that?"

Celestia sighed, "Sirius Orion Black is my father, Harry. Your father and my father were basically brothers, so that makes us practically cousins."

I scratched my head, "If Sirius Black was my father's brother-in-all-but-blood... then why the fuck would he betray them?"

"That's the question I ask every day, living in Grimmauld Place alone." She frowned. "I don't even own it. Gringotts says the estates were seized _de jure_ by the Ministry."

"That's a bullshit cause of seizure. You should bring such a case before the Wizengamot, or at least talk to Professor Dumbledore about it." I stated firmly looking at the girl.

Celestia smirked, "I suppose. But Grimmauld Place isn't bad. It's my ancestral home... I have to deal with my grandmother's portrait screaming like a lunatic at me, calling me "bastard daughter" and "traitor"... but you know. I just ignore her. Kreacher at least listens to me."

"Kreacher?" Hermione asked.

"House elf. They're servants." Celestia said, leaning back and drinking some fire-whiskey.

"House elves are servants? They sound like slaves." Hermione groused, her face pale.

"Whatever, all the noble families have house elves. The Malfoys have Dobby, The Blacks have Kreacher, The Potters have Rurik, so on and so forth."

"Wait. I have a House Elf?" I asked incredulously.

"I'd guess you do. You can summon him if you wish. Just call out his name."

"Okay, I guess I can do that." I hummed, "Rurik? Come here."

A snapping noise sounded through the Commons as a dark gray elf materialized in front of me. He was an older elf, but he was more wise-looking.

"Ah, Master Harry Potter. It has been a long time since I have seen you. I apologize for being out of contact for so long, milord." He bowed deeply.

I nodded, "It's quite alright, Rurik. Do tell, what have your duties been before now?"

Rurik nodded, "Sir, I have been ensuring Potter Manor is kept in proper condition, and have supervised the minor elves in their duties since."

I smiled and said, "I'd like to ask then you keep doing that then. Would you be available if needed?"

Rurik nodded, "Aye, sir. I am very much at your command if needed."

I grinned, "Awesome."

He snapped away from me, disappearing. I turned to Celestia, "Once we figure out this third floor corridor nonsense, we'll figure out what's going on with your father."

She smiled, "Thank you, Harry."

I wondered about something. "When's your birthday, and do you know your mum?"

She sighed, "My birthday is August 1, 1980, and I really am not sure who my mother is. She wasn't around the first year of my life, though. They weren't married, and it was just me and Dad."

I raised an eyebrow at that and said, "Interesting."

* * *

**Christmas**

The night before Christmas was a relatively fun night. Celestia, James, Hermione and I were sitting around the fire in the Common. The four of us were playing cards, betting on snacks and other sweets.

Celestia had won the pot and shared some of the sweets with the rest of us. She then said, "Hey, Harry. I went digging through my things and I actually found something interesting." She disappeared upstairs before coming down with a big black leather-bound book. She opened it, and a magical tree popped up from the blank pages. Above the tree, words formed in cursive script. "The Most Noble House of Black, Family". Branches stuck out in all directions, detailing every known blood relative of the original Black.

She said, "Before I started Hogwarts, Professor Dumbledore helped me repair the damage done to it by my grandmother... All of my relatives that were disowned for no real reason were readded to the clan. I, however, disowned many of my dark relatives, such as Bellatrix Lestrange and Narcissa Malfoy, thus preventing their children from claiming Head of the House Black."

She glanced at James. "No offense, James."

James shrugged, "Sirius was a brilliant man, and I don't really care about my family's disinheritance. I'd rather you run it than me."

She nodded, "Anyway. I was looking over it again in November and I came across an interesting branch." She tapped one branch with her wand and it zoomed in on two adult figures smiling with locked arms.

_Dorea Black (b. 1920, d. 1977) = Charlus Potter (b. 1919, d. 1980)_

"Charlus Potter?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Your grandfather." She stated simply. "The family line resembles that of the Wizarding family Habsburg. They had an unimpressive trait of interbreeding with family. Dorea Black was my grandmother's aunt, born only 5 years before her. Dorea's brother, Pollux, had my grandmother, who married her cousin, Orion, who had Sirius Black, who had me."

"So we really are cousins?"

"Yes, James Potter was born to Dorea and Charlus Potter on March 27, 1960. Of course, he had one son. Harry James Potter, born July 31, 1980." The tree zoomed in on what looked like me, scratching the back of my head, my other hand attempting to snatch a Golden Snitch bugging me. The little tree version of me saw me and waved.

"So..." I said, glancing at the family tree. "I'm Walburga Black's great nephew... Sirius Black's... second cousin, and your third?"

She nodded, "Yes, indeed. And if you look here..." She moved to another section of the tree. The tree was lined with a series of red-headed boys and girls all the way to the end, where it zoomed in on Ron, the twins, Ginny, etc.

The tree Ron was eating a sandwich, Ginny was reading a book and the twins were lighting a stink bomb.

I laughed and said, "So... the Weasley family is related to the Malfoy family, and the Potter family, and the Black family?"

She nodded, "The Blacks are a big genetic line, funnily."

I couldn't stop laughing, and neither could James. "Oh that's funny. the Weasleys are commonly called blood traitors, and yet, they're Blacks!"

We all laughed before Celestia snapped the book shut, "This means that Harry Potter is actually one of the only males in the family that can claim right to be Head of Family. The other men in the family capable of such a claim would be my father, or any of the Weasley males, starting from Arthur all the way to Ron."

She smiled, "So keep that in mind, Harry."

I nodded, "I sure will."

* * *

I was awaken the next morning with a kiss on the lips. I cracked my eyes open to see a smiling Hermione looking at me. I sat up and said, "Oi, Hermione, what's up?"

"It's Christmas morning. Come open your presents." She stated firmly dashing from the room. I looked to see that James had already gotten up. I climbed out of bed and slid down the staircase to the ground floor. I walked over to the tree where Hermione, Celestia and James were waiting. I sat down and said, "So, presents?"

They all laughed at my enthusiasm before James said, "Well, let's let you start then..." He picked up a heavy black box and tossed it to me. I caught it and opened it. I peered inside and raised an eyebrow. I pulled out a long thick silk cloak. I dropped the box on the ground and looked at the cloak. "Woah, what's this, and who is it from?"

I pulled out a small card that said "Take care of it... it was your father's before I borrowed it." before James said, "Is that-?"

I wrapped the cloak around myself and I saw my entire body disappeared. I gasped and James said, "Oh shit, it is! It's the INVISIBILITY CLOAK!"

I let out a hum, "A cloak that turns me invisible? Awesome bounty then." I looked at the note, "Not very specific... my father had an invisibility cloak, and the author of this note borrowed it."  
Hermione grinned, "You know, we could use that to go search the library for stuff if needed... or snoop." She smirked.

Celestia nodded, "Excellent idea."

We shared gifts more, A large box from the Weasley family was visible. I ripped it open, revealing a collection of sweaters.

A black one with the Black family crest with a tag marked "Celestia"  
An emerald one with a large golden snitch with an "H" in the center tagged "Harry"  
A white one with "J" emblazoned across it tagged "James"  
And a maroon one with a large H on it tagged "Hermione".

We put them on and laughed. A note was attached. "Merry Christmas from the Weasley Family!"

We finished exchanging presents, and went off to do research.

That night, I found myself in quite an interesting place. I had gone exploring for books, and nearly gotten nabbed by Finch. I had avoided and bore witness to a conversation between Snape and Quirrell. Snape knew I was there, but he did nothing to reveal me, preferring to turn back to his conversation. I passed into another room where I saw this strange mirror with what I presumed to be some proto-ancient language.

I walked up to it and looked into it.

I barely contained my large gasp when I saw what was reflected.

My parents were proudly watching me, clasping their hands on my shoulders, grinning. Hermione was resting her head on my shoulder with a loving look in her eye and I felt my heart pain at such a sight.

A voice said, "So you've discovered the Mirror of Erised, my boy."

I turned to see Dumbledore who smiled, "Many men have gone insane before it's reflective surface, showing a person's greatest desires... but it does nothing to dote on desires without action. Harry, don't come look for this mirror again, you will not find it. It will be moved."

I nodded, "Professor... what do you see?"

He didn't turn around and said, as he left, "I see myself holding a pair of new woolen socks."

_I knew he was lying._

* * *

**May 1992**

Months had passed, and things died down as we were investigating the circumstances of the third floor corridor. We had an idea, looking through Albus Dumbledore's relationships. We assumed it either had to do with his family, his old friend Grindelwald, or this enchanter named Nicholas Flamel.

So this was an interesting situation.

We had gone to Hagrid about the auspices of what we had looked to find, and despite Hagrid's loose tongue, we had to administer just a few drops of potion to keep him talking. He eventually divulged the true nature of this assignment. The Sorcerer's Stone, and Nicholas Flamel.

Those myths we always knew about, the Sorcerer's Stone, something that grants it's possessor an infinite lifespan. Interesting idea it was, really. I didn't think it was real, but Hagrid went on about it.

Then you know, he showed us a dragon egg that was hatching, and out came a little scrunchy thing. We got ratted out by Draco, and the five of us got put in detention.

So when detention rolled around the next week, losing 50 points... each, we got stuck doing some hunting in the Forbidden Forest for Hagrid, looking for somebody who was _killing unicorns_. Sick, innit?

So Hermione, Draco and I were stuck searching when we came across a hooded figure hunched over a dead unicorn. It was drinking the damn things blood. It looked all marauding and tried to approach me before I stuck my wand out and growled, "Not a step, bastard."

The figure backed up before it tried to go at me. I shouted, "Expulso!" at the tree behind the figure. The explosion threw him past me as the three of us ducked behind a rock. The figure got back up and quickly ran off as fast as it could, limping the way. I backed up and said, "Alright, what the fuck did we just witness."

A voice said, "A terrible fate... a cursed life comes after... if one drinks the blood of a unicorn." We turned to see a centaur emerging from a shadow, with an angry expression on his face as he watched the hooded figure disappear into the distance.

There was a sound before James, Celestia and Hagrid emerged from around the corner, all holding weapons drawn. The centaur said, "Hello, Hagrid. Nice to see you again."

He nodded, "Firenze. What's going on 'ere?"

The centaur sighed, "Hooded figure killed two unicorns and drank blood, and ran off... The Potter boy did good, though... He crippled the damn thing, and it ran like a bat out of hell." He turned to Hagrid, "You were foolish to bring Potter in here. Take him back immediately, there will be consequences if you are not careful, Rubeus."

Hagrid quickly escorted us from the forest, back to the Common.

* * *

**June 1992**

"You can't leave." Neville Longbottom stated, turning on us, fists raised. "You won't cause Gryffindor more trouble, I'll fight you if I must."

Hermione cast a full body-bind on him, as we ran off.

"Come on, Come on!" I shouted to them as we ran down the third floor corridor. We knew that somebody was making an attempt on the stone. I had a pretty good idea of who, but we needed to act, before it was too late.

We ran into Fluffy the dog first, to which Celestia cast a spell to make the harp start playing. We leapt down the trap-door as the dog fell asleep. The trap-door slammed shut, leaving us stuck in the dim room full of plant matter.

The plant matter began to writh around and began to ensnare us.

Hermione shouted, "This is Devil's Snare! You need to relax or it'll kill you!" She relaxed and melted through the plants. I shouted, "NO, HERMIONE!"

Her voice filtered up, "I'm alright Harry. Just relax." I breathed in and slid down and fell into her arms. She set me down and said, "Okay... Celes and James are stuck up there. I have an idea... Devil's Snare wilts in sunlight... what's the spell for a portable sun..."

She pulled her wand out, "Solis ortus!" A bright ball of light shot up into the devil's snare as it began to wilt away. James and Celestia fell onto the ground as we proceeded to the next level, which were a bunch of flying keys. James jumped onto one of the brooms and fired up into the air, beating off keys that wanted to drive into my head while I searched for the right one. Grabbing the golden one, ironically of all, I landed and stuck it in the door keyhole. James shouted, and I had to watch him fall and break both of his legs, which snapped quite loudly on impact.

Celes shouted, "You two go ahead! I'll take James back to the third floor corridor!" She picked James up and carried him back through the doorway.

Hermione and I turned and ran through the door, to a gateway with potions of various groups. There was a riddle that Hermione read. She smirked and handed me a vial and said, "Drink this and go across the bridge... I can't go with you, and I have confidence you'll succeed."

Just before I drank it, she grabbed my arm and said, "Before you go... take this."

She gave me a kiss and backed away. I downed the potion and dashed across the bridge.

I came to a door that I pushed open, revealing Professor Quirrell staring into the Mirror of Erised.

"Ha, Potter. I've been expecting you."

My wand was already out and I said, "Not surprised, really. I knew it was you really, but I of course, had doubts."

"How did you get to that, Potter? Nobody suspects p-p-p-poor s-s-s-stuttering Quirrell."

I smirked, "Simple. You were so subtle, but you forget I'm a sharp lad. I've gone through hell, and I can tell subtle manipulative psychological warfare."

"Smart boy, now you- EXPELLIARMUS!"

My wand rolled across the room as he said, "Now come over here, Potter, _or I'll kill you._"

I approached the mirror and he said, "What do you see, boy?"

I looked into it and saw myself. My reflection grinned and placed the Sorcerer's Stone in a pocket. I felt a heavy object appear in my own pocket, and I bit my tongue to avoid gasping.

I said, "I'm accepting the Quidditch Cup from Dumbledore, and I've been made Head Boy."

A voice, raspy, grumbled, "He is lying. Let me see him, Quirrell."

I backed up as Quirrell started unraveling his turban, and pulling it down, revealing a face of a man. He said, "Potter, it has been far too long."

I glared, "Moldyshorts, nice to see you again."

Quirrell hissed, "Impudent child, you dare not talk to Master that way!"

Voldemort chuckled in a snake-like manner and said, "Silence, Quirrell. The boy has balls, I will give him that. Potter, join me and all the world's power will be yours." He laughed uproarously.

I said, "No, I won't, you're an evil bastard, and I will be your demise."

Voldemort shouted, "KILL HIM!"

Quirrell launched at me, and began to choke me. The stone popped out of my hand and rolled just outside of hands reach. Gasping for air, I reached and grabbed Quirrell's hand to get him to let go. I felt heat as his hand began to burn. He let go, screaming in pain. The flesh of his hand was turning dark, and burning away, leaving his hand gone.

Voldemort shouted, "Kill him, you fool!"

Quirrell launched at me again, but this time I was ready. I kicked him swiftly in the leg, relishing the nice snap, before I gripped his face. The man began to turn to ash as both him and Voldemort screamed loudly in pain.

Quirrell turned to nothing but dust and clothing as Voldemort's soul rose from the ash and pierced through me. I felt an immense cold, and that was the last I saw of anything, surrounded by fire, and I blacked out.

* * *

"Harry." I heard as I woke up for the second time in the Hospital Ward. I looked to see Professor Dumbledore looking at me in a concerned manner. He said, "Mister Potter, you had the entire school worried. We were afraid you'd not wake up. What happened between you and Voldemort is absolutely a secret... so that means that naturally, everyone knows..." He smiled.

"So... Quirrell is..." I replied, unsure.

"Dead, of course. And the Sorcerer's Stone has been destroyed, and Nicholas and his wife have enough Elixir to set their affairs in order before departing this life in contentment."

I nodded, before Dumbledore said, "But, one small chunk of it has survived the destruction, but it's magical qualities are gone." He drew a hunk of the red stone-gem from his pocket and showed it to me. I gasped at it before he said, leaving it at my bed-side table, "This rock would make an amazing gem for a special occasion some day in the future. You should keep it as a war trophy, and it may be of great use."

He chuckled and I asked, "What about my friends?

"All of them are fine. Your friend James is in the bed next to you, and your other friends suffered minor, if any damage, you will not have to worry about it."

I nodded and Dumbledore said, "I will see you at the leaving feast, Harry. See you." He departed, leaving me to sit back and sigh.

When the leaving feast arrived a few days later, The entire hall was decked out in green and silver colours, denoting a Slytherin victory.

Dumbledore rose and spoke, "While I admire Slytherin's strong unity and respect for the rules, I do have some last minute points to deliver... To Mister James Malfoy, for his impeccable skills at defending a friend when necessary. To him, I reward 50 points." There was a loud cheering from Gryffindor. "To Celestia Andrea Black, for coming to the aid of an injured person, and for proving that even those with bad family reputations can venerate themselves as heroes, 60 points." Cheering again from Gryffindor, hissing from Slytherin.

"To Miss Hermione Granger, for great cunning and logic skills, and for listening to both heart and brain, 50 points." Cheering.

"To Mister Harry Potter, for saving the day and proving himself when it is needed, and for being a great help to all of us, 80 points." Cheering.

"And finally, to Mister Neville Longbottom, it takes great courage to stand up to your enemies, but even greater courage to stand up to your friends. 50 points."

He clapped his hand, and the banners turned red and gold once more.

* * *

**Hogsmeade**

"Potter, I will meet you at the King's Cross station, and I will take you to the inn, where you will stay until we can settle your finances." Snape stated to me at the station. I nodded to him and said, "Professor, I'm sorry for doubting you."

Snape curtly nodded, "Potter, I'm sure it was hard for you to face your parents killer, and I am proud of you for that. Hagrid bid me request I give you this." He drew a large photo album from his robe. "It has been a good year for both of us Potter. If I had some alcohol, I'd toast... Here's to six more."

I nodded and smiled, "To six more."

He apparated away from the Hogsmeade station, and I turned to see my friends waiting for me at the train. "Coming, Harry?"

I nodded, "I'm coming, guys."

Hermione smiled, "It's strange to go home finally... this is like a second home."

I grinned, "This is home, though..."

The four of us boarded the train, into the future.


	5. End Page

**Gotterdammerung  
Total Words (before this chapter): 21,900 (28% of original Harry Potter** **book)**

* * *

_Thank you for reading the first book. The second book is coming soon!  
_


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